Logan's Journey: Chapter Three
WRITTEN: 29 November 2012 Chapter Three: Birth of the Hero of Brightwall With his weapons in hand, Logan used his Guild Seal to travel back to the Sanctuary and, from there; he went straight to the Mistpeak Valley Dweller Camp. He found Walter waiting anxiously outside with Titan. Logan calmly made his way over to his godfather who relaxed immensely when he saw him. ‘Logan, thank Avo,’ Walter said, clasping his hand on the Prince’s shoulder. ‘I was beginning to worry. I take it things didn’t go as planned?’ ‘You can say that again,’ Logan sighed. ‘You were right. She is no longer the little girl I once knew. Did you know that she could use Will without gauntlets?’ ‘I had heard rumours of her power but I never thought it was true.’ Walter looked stricken. ‘Well, it’s true and she is a powerful Will user too.’ Logan shivered. ‘What are we doing here, anyway?’ ‘The people hear call themselves Dwellers,’ Walter explained, leading the way into the camp. ‘They’re tough, loyal and they hate Lillian’s guts. It may not look like much, but this is where the revolution begins. The man that we need to convince is Sabine. He is a proud sod, but a good man and a good leader. He won’t give his allegiance easily, especially to a prince. I have already spoken to him, explaining everything and he’s willing to listen to what you have to say.’ They had arrived outside a pair of huge gates. The two Dwellers standing outside nodded to them and allowed them entry. As they walked inside and over to a caravan home, they found their way blocked by a giant man, nearly as big as some of the trolls Logan had fought. ‘Out of the way, Boulder,’ someone ordered. ‘I can’t see a thing.’ The giant man moved out of the way to reveal a small man with a white bearded and hair. The small man’s eyes met Walter’s briefly before falling upon Logan. He smiled coldly. ‘So royalty walks into our home,’ the small man said, making Logan assume he was Sabine. ‘A prince no less. You’re a long mile from the castle, Prince Logan.’ ‘I have not lived in the castle since my father’s death,’ Logan replied. ‘So I’ve heard. What do you think of our home then? Do you like what your sister has done to us?’ ‘I swear I had no idea of what my sister had become.’ ‘So Walter has informed me. Did you know that these mountains have always been ours? Now Lillian has taken them and is stripping them of all life. We’re ready to go to war, but we need to ask; why should we follow a prince that took the life of his own father and is the older brother to the tyrant Queen?’ ‘With all your respect, Sabine, I only took my father’s life as his last request,’ Logan replied trying to keep his temper in check. His father’s death was a hurtful subject. ‘Besides, you can trust me. I give you my word.’ ‘We don’t take much stock in words round these parts,’ Sabine snorted. ‘We are simple folk.’ ‘Then let me prove myself to you,’ Logan urged. Sabine studied the face of the young man before him. ‘Very well,’ he said eventually. ‘First you must prove to me that you are as Walter claims; a Hero.’ ‘And how am I meant to do that? Do you want me to make a name for myself?’ ‘No. You simply need to enter the secret chamber beneath the Brightwall Academy where only Heroes can survive its trials and reach the relics within. Bring me one of these relics and I will believe you.’ ‘I can do that.’ ‘Second, prove to me that you are a warrior worthy of leading us into battle by slaying the mercenaries who plague Mistpeak Valley and who have long soured our existence,’ Sabine continued. ‘And finally, prove that you are a true leader by persuading our neighbours in Brightwall to share what food they have with us. If we cannot eat, we will die, and the dead make poor allied, young Logan.’ ‘Is that all?’ ‘Yes, that’s the lot. Off you can then and good luck. It was nice knowing you.’ Chuckling slightly, Walter led Logan away. ‘Nice to see that Sabine hasn’t mellowed with age,’ he chuckled. ‘Anyway, I know the place he mentioned.’ ‘So Sabine was talking about the Reliquary?’ Logan questioned. ‘Yes. All you need to is show the old librarian your Guild Seal and he’ll know what it means.’ ‘What are you going to do?’ ‘I’m going to see if I can find out more about these mercenaries,’ the old guard replied. ‘I’ll see you in Brightwall when I have some information.’ Logan nodded his head and followed the designated path to Brightwall. The worst thing he had to deal with on his way to Brightwall through Mistpeak Valley was the blood thirsty, hungry wolves, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He would have been so embarrassed if he was defeated by a pack of wolves after eliminating all the trolls in Albion. Upon arriving in Brightwall, Logan headed straight for the Brightwall Academy. As he walked along the familiar path to the Academy – Sparrow used to take him to the Academy all the time - many citizens stopped and stared at him, before muttering amongst themselves. Logan only heard snippets of what they were saying. 'Did you see who I thought I saw?' 'It couldn't be...' ‘I thought Prince Logan was dead!’ Logan ignored them as he went passed as he had no desire to be called a murderer, though he did hear himself referred to as such in some whispers. He sometimes hated his father for ruining his life. When Logan entered the Academy he gasped. It was nothing like he remembered it. He always remembered the Academy to be full of life, but now it was falling apart and abandoned. So much for getting Samuel’s help, Logan thought as he walked further into the Academy wondering what had happened. As he approached the greeting and information desk he saw that he was not alone. Samuel was still there. 'The library is closed by order of the Queen,' he said in a bored monotone voice, without looking up from what he was reading. 'We don't serve drinks. We don't sell chicken feed. Please leave before the soldiers suspect you of gaining any real knowledge.' ‘Lillian closed the Academy!’ Logan exclaimed, scaring Samuel. 'Sweet papyrus!' he yelled, looking Logan up and down. ‘Logan?' ‘Hi, Samuel, long time no see.’ Logan grinned at him. ‘I can’t believe it. You’re alive!’ Samuel’s tired face broke into a smile. ‘Why does everyone keep saying that?’ ‘Well, Lillian informed the kingdom that you had been executed for murdering Sparrow.’ ‘Sometimes I think it would have been better if I had been,’ Logan muttered bitterly. ‘Did you say before that Lily ordered this place to be shut down?’ ‘Yes, she did,’ Samuel replied sadly. ‘She informed me that she didn’t wish to be spending unnecessary money on trivial things like this Academy. She also stated that if people needed a book than all they had to do was to go to a bookstore and buy it.’ ‘I can’t believe she’d do something like this. She knew how much this place meant to Father. He’s probably turning in his grave.’ ‘Indeed. I have often wondered how he would react to see it in its present state,’ Samuel agreed. ‘Now, young Logan, what can I do for you?’ Logan mutely showed him the Guild Seal. ‘By the holy bookmark! The Guild Seal!’ Samuel exclaimed. ‘I haven’t seen it since the last time I saw Sparrow. Please, follow me.’ He turned and began to walk toward the Reliquary. ‘How do you know that I want to go to the Reliquary?’ Logan inquired. ‘You mean Walter and your father never told you?’ ‘Told me what?’ ‘Sparrow told me that one day a challenger bearing the Seal would come seeking entrance to the Reliquary,’ replied Samuel. ‘That is why I still remain here. I take it you are a Hero like him and your mother. ‘Yes, though I take more after Mum. I prefer a strong hammer over a ranged weapon or Will.’ ‘Sparrow favoured the blade too.’ ‘True, but he also favoured Will. He left the ranged weapons for Uncle Reaver to deal with.’ ‘Not a wise decision if you ask me,’ Samuel said somewhat disdainfully. Anyway, here we are,’ he added as they stopped before a huge silver door with different mechanisms in place to lock it. 'I can't tell you how many of our researches and professors have studied this door, hoping to unlock its mechanism. None of them ever believed me when I informed them that only challenger could open it.’ ‘Why a challenger?’ Logan asked, examining the door. ‘Because there is only one thing the challenger would bare.’ Logan’s eyes fell upon a slot shaped like the Guild Seal. ‘The Guild Seal,’ Logan breathed. ‘To open this door you have to insert the Guild Seal, just like the tomb Father had to enter to first get to the Chamber of Fate in the Guild, right?’ ‘Correct.’ Without hesitation, Logan inserted the Seal into the door and before their very eyes, the mechanisms began to unlock. Inside the Reliquary, Logan found a number of things such as gold, gems, old books and many other bits and pieces. Another thing he found in the Reliquary was hollow men and lots of them; though he wasn’t surprised. Of course his father would have something deadly guarding his relics. It wouldn’t have surprised Logan if Sparrow had pet balverines down here too. Right at the very end of the Reliquary he heard a musical tune. The same tune he remembered his father humming – very badly, he might add - to Lillian as he put her to sleep. As Logan approached a pedestal, he saw that the music as coming from a strange music box. When he picked it up, white light surrounded him and he was once more standing in front of the Blind Seer, Theresa. 'You have done well,' said Theresa. 'Touching the Guild Seal was an indication of what you could become. Reaching the music box has proven what you already are. No one but a Hero could have done it. You have begun to learn what powers you possess, and there is still greater potential within you, having the parents that you do, but you have only taken the first step in your journey. Albion is crying out for a revolution, and for someone to lead it.' 'I know this already,' Logan stated. Theresa ignored him, like she had done many times with Sparrow. 'Winning supporters to your cause will be hard,' she continued. 'Leading them against Lillian will be an even greater challenge, but it is one you must accomplish for as long as your sister sits on the throne, Albion is in great danger.' ‘Danger of what?' Logan asked quickly. ‘You will see when the time is right. For now, open the music box and continue your journey. You must do whatever you can to gain your first ally, for you cannot lead a rebellion without followers. Sabine is a good man, and his people are strong.' Logan nodded and opened the music box. The next thing he knew, he was standing at the welcome desk in front of a startled Samuel. 'Blessed index cards, you made it!' Samuel exclaimed. 'This is cause for great rejoicing. Albion has a proper Hero again. If ever I can be of assistance, I will be honoured to serve you.' ‘Thank you, Samuel,’ Logan smiled before leaving the Academy. As he went, he examined the music box. I knew that you would succeed, sir, said Jasper. You now have proof of your Heroic status and I believe Walter has made some progress with the mercenary problem. He is waiting for you outside the local tavern. 'Thanks, Jasper,' said Logan, heading for the tavern. Logan knew where nearly every tavern in Albion was seeing as no matter where his parents went; they always went to the tavern for a beer. Just like Jasper had informed him, Walter waiting patiently outside for him. 'You were successful then?' Walter asked as Logan stopped in front of him. ‘Of course I was,’ Logan laughed, showing Walter the music box. 'Bloody marvellous!' said Walter. ‘So tell me, how did you like the hollow men?’ ‘They were no problem,’ Logan shrugged. ‘They are easy compared to fighting – hang on, you knew that there would be hollow men in there?’ ‘I was with your father when he put the music box in the Reliquary,’ Walter informed him. ‘I, of course, found them a real challenge, especially when I had your father observing every move I made before criticising me. Anyway, you'll be glad to know that I have some information on the mercenaries Sabine mentioned. They're led by a man named Saker. He used to be a soldier, but always had more in common with bandits and cutthroats. His men are holed up in a small fortress in the mountains. It won't be easy to get in, but I have a plan.' ‘I’m listening.’ ‘That’s a first,’ Walter muttered, motioning for Logan to follow him. Walter led Logan into an upstairs room in the tavern where they found a sleeping mercenary. The mercenary was male with no hair, a beard and a strange tattoo on his right arm. It reminded Logan of tally marks. ‘I’m assuming your plan has something to do with this mercenary,’ Logan said slowly. ‘Who is he, anyway?’ ‘He’s a cold-blooded killer,’ replied Walter. ‘His name’s Clarence, but everyone calls him Jimmy. He’s been drinking in the pub all day, making life unpleasant for everyone. It wasn't hard to get him completely pickled. These young thugs... bloody lightweights if you ask me.' ‘Why did you want him pickled?’ ‘I need you to take his clothes.’ Logan stared at his godfather. ‘Why in the name of Avo do you want me to wear his clothes?’ ‘By wearing his clothes you’ll have a free pass into their camp,’ Walter explained patiently. ‘Just try not to think about what those stains might be.' ‘Walter, I know that mercenaries aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, but don’t you think they’ll realise that I’m not Jimmy?’ said Logan. ‘We look nothing alike.’ 'Hmm, you’re right. You're not likely to convince anyone without a bit of extra effort,' Walter replied thoughtfully. Logan recognised that look. ‘I am not shaving my head and I’m not getting that foul tattoo on my body!’ Logan declared. ‘As for the beard, I am not waiting months for one to grow!’ ‘This is the only way, Logan,’ Walter argued. ‘If you go to the Stylist they can shave your head and instantly grow you a beard. Then, once the mission is complete, all you need to do is return and they will remove the beard and grow back your hair for you. Sparrow did it all the time.’ ‘And the tattoo?’ ‘There is a product out there that can remove tattoos too.’ ‘Fine,’ Logan sighed grudgingly, walking over to Jimmy and removing his clothes. ‘What will you be doing while I’m imitating an under-schooled mercenary?’ ‘I'll find out who to talk to about getting food to the Dwellers. They might not have much to spare here, but they're kind people. They'll just need a little convincing. Anyway, good luck dealing with Saker and his mercenaries. I’m sure you’ll do fine.’ ‘Thanks.’ Logan then went to the Stylists, Moustache Mansions, and had the Stylist shave his head, grow him a beard and do the tally mark tattoo. This had better be worth it, Logan thought bitterly as he looked at his new appearance. He did resemble Jimmy. Clicking his tongue, Logan returned to the Sanctuary and went into the dressing room to get changed into Jimmy’s clothes. By the time he was dressed, Jasper was in the room, picking up his clothes, which he soon dropped when his eyes found Logan. ‘AH!’ he screamed. ‘Jasper, relax, it’s only me,’ said Logan. ‘Logan,’ Jasper gasped. ‘Well, I must say that is truly a wonderful combination… I think I may need to lie down. Why do you look like that? Little late to be going through a rebellious stage, aren’t you?’ ‘Believe me; I only look like this to make Walter happy.’ ‘And how would looking like that make my cousin happy?’ Jasper demanded. ‘It’s all part of his plan for me to deal with the mercenaries.’ ‘If you say so, just be careful.’ ‘Aren’t I always?’ Logan joked. Jasper gave him a look as if to say, ‘I’m not amused.’ Logan took that as his cue to leave. When he arrived at the Mercenary Camp, he found their fortress gate shut and locked. He knocked on the wooden gate. Moments later, another mercenary popped his head over the wall to see who it was. 'Hi, Jimmy. Back from killing some Dwellers? What's with the dog?' the mercenary asked, looking down at Titan. Logan didn't answer. He knew that he would give his disguise away if he spoke. He just hoped the other mercenary wouldn't be suspicious if he didn't talk... he wasn't. Thankfully he wasn't suspicious about Titan either. He should have left him with Walter. 'Come on in,' he grumbled, before muttering on about Jimmy been too good to talk to other mercenaries. Logan entered without hesitation. He walked confidently through the camp, though he was anything but confident. He thought that any minute his cover would be blown. He ended up ignoring all the other mercenaries, until he came to the third gate. It was then he ran into trouble. The two mercenaries guarding the gate were a bit more perceptive than the last two. ‘Jimmy, is that really you? You look different somehow. Were your eyes always light green?' asked one of the two. He sounded really confused. 'Nah, Jimmy has periwinkle eyes,' said the other before realising what he had just said. 'That's not Jimmy!’ he yelled, alerting the other mercenaries. So much for the disguise, ''Logan thought, holding his hammer at the ready. Logan ended up have to fight the rest of the way to Saker, which annoyed him greatly. His mood did not improve when he reached the end of the mercenary camp and walked straight into a fighting ring, which turned out to be a trap. The moment he was inside, the gates swung shut and from above he was surrounded by a hundred, if not more, mercenaries. As some of them made a move to jump down to fight him, a new commanding voice met his ears and he knew that it was Saker. 'Leave him,' he ordered. ‘He’s mine!' He then jumped down and Logan noticed that he was roughly the same size as Boulder. Logan figured that it would be a little like fighting trolls again. 'You've left quite a trial of bodies,' said Saker, walking towards the Prince. 'You're not one of Sabine's Dwellers, that's for damn sure. But you'll die like one!' Without warning he attacked. It was like fighting trolls again, with the only difference being Saker was quicker than a troll, though the fire Saker shot at Logan from his gauntlets was like dodging a troll’s boulder. Every time Saker was in range, Logan swung his hammer with all his strength and, in the end; Saker fell to the ground, before struggling to his knees in defeat, too tired to carry on. 'Stop!' he begged to Logan. 'You've won. This battle is yours. Kill me or let me live; it's your choice, and my men will honour it. We may be nothing but mercenaries, but we have our codes, like any other soldiers. We'll leave the Dwellers be no matter what you do. That's a warrior's promise.' Logan looked down at the big man before him, before extending his hand to him. He could tell when a man gave his word and actually meant it. Saker was one of those men. Saker looked at his hand for a moment, before accepting it, and he helped him to his feet, before smiling up at him. ‘My mother was raised as a monk and as an adult she studied in the ways of violence,’ Logan informed Saker. ‘The lessons she learnt she passed onto me. She taught me when violence is necessary and when it is just an easy and cowardly way out. This is one such time. ‘ 'Thank you,' said Saker. 'I won't forget this. Let the stranger go!' he added loudly to the other mercenaries. ‘Here take this flag,' he continued to Logan. 'If you ever need our help, send it to us and we shall come. You are always welcome amongst my men.' 'I thank you, Saker. You are truly a man of your word and more,' said Logan, accepting the flag and leaving the camp. The mercenaries were cleaning up the dead bodies. ''It is a momentous occasion, sir, Jasper said to Logan as he walked through the camp. Your first victory in battle. I'm no expert on personal combat, but I would say, based on the fact that you're not dead, you acquitted yourself rather well. 'Thanks, Jasper,' Logan chuckled, before acting as though he hadn't said anything when a few mercenaries looked over at him. They had heard him talking to Jasper. Logan wondered if people ever thought that Sparrow was crazy when he spoke to Theresa through the Guild Seal. Though they probably already thought that he was crazy, Logan thought as he exited the camp. It would seem that you have completed two of the tasks that Sabin set for you, continued Jasper. If you return to Brightwall, you will find Walter has some news on how to fulfil the last requirement. 'Where in Brightwall is he?' He’s at the Brightwall Tavern. It seems as though my cousin has become quite attached to the place. '' Logan laughed at his comment. '-----THE HAPPENINGS-----''' He ended up finding Walter in the same room he had found Jimmy, only this time there wasn't a mercenary in sight and Samuel was with Walter drinking ale. Due to Logan’s disguise they didn't recognise him at first. 'Oh my,' said Samuel, while Walter tensed up before saying, ‘Logan, is that you?' 'No, I'm Jimmy,' Logan said sarcastically. 'I can barely recognise you. Did the plan work?' 'It did at first until someone realised that Jimmy doesn’t have green eyes,’ Logan informed them. ‘I did, however, manage to stop the mercenaries attacking the Dwellers. Saker gave me his word. ‘ ‘That is good.’ ‘Jasper said you have news on the last requirement.’ 'Brightwall has no overabundance of resources itself,' replied Samuel. 'The Queen’s levies are rather steep and we face shortages more often than is comfortable. However, if you were to improve things around Brightwall, the people would be most grateful, and when people are grateful, they're also charitable. I'm sure they would find it in their hearts to send aid to those poor people.' 'There you have it,' said Walter. 'The way I see it, you will need all the followers you can get if you're going to lead a successful rebellion. What better time to start?' I heartily agree with Walter - pardon me for overhearing, said Jasper. 'That's alright, Jasper,' said Logan. Samuel and Walter didn’t even react to him seemingly talking to himself. As it happens, I've learned of a promising method for amassing followers. If you'll return to the Sanctuary at your earliest convenience, I can show you what I mean. 'Sure. Samuel, Walter, I will see you later,’ Logan said, getting to his feet before travelling to the Sanctuary. When he arrived in the Sanctuary, Jasper looked disapprovingly at the way he was dress, but said nothing of it. Instead he explained how Logan could gain followers. 'Ah, now the book says there is an additional rather amazing ability about the Sanctuary's map table: it can help you find people who are in need of a Hero. I often wondered how Sparrow knew who needed help,' he added. Logan went over to the map table and looked around Brightwall. He could see that a number of villagers needed his help. At first he didn't know who to help, but in the end he decided to help Bernard and Pasty with their chickens. 'Right, I'm off again,' began Logan, but when he caught sight of his reflection, he said, ‘but first I think I'll go and clean myself up. ' ‘That would be advisable,’ replied Jasper. ‘It is not appropriate for a Prince to dress like that.’ Chuckling at Jasper’s attitude, Logan changed into casual attire and returned to the Moustache Mansion where he had his hair grown back, and the beard and tattoo removed. Once he was his old self again, he went to see Bernard, who was standing in an empty chicken coop looking anxious. 'Bernard?' Logan asked, walking over to the man. 'Yes, that's me.' ‘I’m here about a chicken problem.’ 'You are? Oh that's great! Somehow the gate got open and all of my chickens have escaped. I don't know how they did it, and I know I probably never will. Chickens are exceptionally intelligent buggers. Anyway, you'll need this,' he said, handing Logan a chicken costume. 'Contrary to what most people think, chickens are very crafty. They won't fall for any of that, "Here chicky, chicky. I've got some lovely treats for you". Oh no, they’re too smart for that.’ Logan was staring to question Bernard’s sanity. ‘You have to defeat them psychologically. Now, they won't remain one concentrated force,’ Bernard continued. ‘They will have re-deformed into groups of three or so, to maximise their tactical advantage. When you find one of these squads flap your wings and such and they should follow you back here, but don't let them try and negotiate with ya. You do not want those little buggers in your head.’ ‘I don’t think it’s my head we need to worry about,’ Logan muttered, before walking away. Once he was a short distance away, he returned to the Sanctuary to get dressed. As he was changing, Logan was beginning to feel as though he was playing dress ups with Lillian again. He just hoped no one would recognise him in the chicken suit. He was also questioning Bernard’s sanity again, but then he was beginning to question his own for agreeing to wear a chicken suit and go around clucking and flapping his arms like a chicken. And there was people thinking that there was something wrong with Lillian! Questionable sanity must run in the family, Logan thought coming out from behind the screen as Jasper enter the room carrying some new dyes that he found. He stopped dead when he saw Logan. 'You're dressed as a chicken. What are you... what are... what are you planning to do... dressed as a chicken?' he asked. ‘Are you doing this to make my cousin happy again?’ ‘No, I’m going to catch some chickens,’ Logan muttered, returning to Brightwall to find those chickens. It was by far the most humiliating thing he had ever done. The villagers all laughed when they saw him and many then fell to the ground clutching their sides as he got the chickens to follow him. In the end, he rounded up all nine chickens and had them safely back with Bernard. 'Thanks, I -' began Bernard, but he was interrupted by his wife as she came waltzing towards them, looking disapprovingly at Bernard. 'Oh, Bernard, you've gone and locked them up again,' said an angry Patsy. 'This isn't right! They deserve to be free!' 'You're always on about the chickens and their freedom. You know what I think?' said an equally angry Bernard. 'I think it was you let them out!' 'You're right. I admit it! I couldn't live with myself any longer, being complicit in this chicken oppression.' 'But they might have destroyed the entire town… possibly the world!' 'They might have gone off to live peacefully on their own! They might have created great works of art or literature! We don't know, and we have no right to take away their fundamental liberties based on our own prejudices!' Patsy snapped. 'Well, now it's clear taking away their liberties isn't enough. I have to assume you'll try to facilitate another escape... and that means the only choice is to kill them all!' Bernard declared. 'Oh no, Bernard! No, don't!' Patsy pleaded. 'Alright, keep them locked up, at least so we can talk about this!' Bernard turned to Logan 'You... you infiltrated the chickens, you lived among them. You know them better than anyone. What's to be done?' he demanded. 'They're chickens,’ Logan replied bluntly. He couldn’t believe that he was having this conversation. ‘I don't think there's any harm in letting them live.' 'Alright, we'll let them live,' Bernard grumbled, turning to his wife, 'but only if you swear never to let them out again.' 'Alright, alright, we'll work this out,' Patsy agreed. 'I hope I haven't made a terrible mistake, but if I killed them... I would just have made them martyrs.' ‘I’m leaving,’ Logan informed the chicken mad couple. He hoped that whatever they had wasn’t contagious. He ended up returning to the Sanctuary to remove his ridiculous costume and to find someone else to help. He hoped he did not have to help another insane person. Little did he know he would be doing something nearly as bad, if not worse. The Prince ended up returning to Brightwall Academy to help two men, Lambert and Pinch, who needed help putting on a play. They were found bickering outside the Academy. 'You, good sir,' said the man in green the moment he saw Logan approach, 'you who live in such a tumultuous epoch. Do you not thirst for the drama and emotion of a properly structured tragic play?' Before Logan could answer, the other man, the one in red, said, 'Of course you don't. You want to escape your troubles. You want to be made merry, you want to be amused.' 'It is no good,' the green man sighed. 'We shall never agree, Pinch.' 'Ah, if only we could get our hands on Morley's lost play,' Pinch agreed. 'It would solve all of our problems.' 'Morley's Lost Play?' Logan repeated, now highly interested. 'Isn't that play meant to hold both tragedy and humour?' 'Yes,' Lambert answered, looking impressed that Logan had heard of it. 'It is said to bring together the opposites of tragedy and comedy in an exquisite marriage of forms.' 'But perhaps you can find it?' asked Pinch, taking in Logan’s outfit and weapons. 'Yes, we beg you,' said Lambert. 'The theatre, the muses, the very heart and soul of this town, will thank you.' ‘I have no problem doing that. Where do you think I should start?' replied Logan. 'The library,' Lambert answered swiftly. 'If it's in the library, why don't you go and look yourselves?' asked Logan. ‘I’m sure Samuel wouldn’t mind.’ 'We did, well, we did commission an elderly detective to search the library for clues as to the play's whereabouts, but he never returned. Plus Queen Lillian has made it clear that she doesn't want anyone browsing its shelves.' ‘Of course she has,’ Logan muttered, walking toward the Academy. What felt like hours, though it probably was, later of searching the shelves, Logan finally found some clues. As he walked deeper into the Academy, pass the room that held the entrance to the Reliquary, a voice echoed around the dimly lit corridor. 'Turn back now, mortal one...' it said. Logan paused for a second before hurrying through the doors that had just slammed shut in front of him. While others might have ran away from the voice, it encouraged Logan to move on. He wasn’t heeding his father’s warning about disembodied voices. 'Stay away from this accursed place,' the voice said again, making papers fly out of books as he ran down another corridor, before slamming another door in his face. 'Only death and insanity awaits you...' Yet again, Logan ignored the warnings and entered the room. The room was covered with dust and spider webs with the only light source coming from a blue, glowing book floating above a pedestal. Cautiously, Logan moved forward and stood in front of the book. 'Don't pick it up...' the voice yelled, panicking. Logan obviously did the opposite. He picked up the book and looked around. Nothing happened. Shrugging, he opened it and flicked through its pages before giving a slight yell as a ghost head popped out of the book. He recognised the head as Philipth Morley's head from a picture in a history book. 'You lot just can't leave well enough alone, can you?' he yelled. 'You bloody literary tourists. You’re the bane of my afterlife!' Then, before Logan could even blink, he was sucked into the book and his world went black. When he came to his senses again, he saw that he was lying on the ground with the ghost of Morley standing above him glaring. Logan leaped to his feet and looked around. He had no idea where he was. 'Listen here you!' Morley said sternly, snapping Logan’s attention back to him. 'You're not getting my lost play, you hear? It's rubbish, worse than rubbish. I mean, what was I thinking mixing tragedy and comedy? I must have been off my rocker!' He was talking more to himself than to the Prince, before disappearing muttering to himself. Logan’s eyes travelled over the different houses that lined the street, trying to figure out where he was when a voice spoke behind him. 'It would seem, son, you have been apprehended by the ghost of Philipth Morley,’ an oldish man said. 'That makes us both his captives.' ‘You’re Ransom Lockyer, the famous detective, aren’t you?’ 'Yes, yet here I am, ready to live out the rest of my days trapped in a book,' said Locke. 'A book? You mean we're stuck in one of Morley's plays?' Logan was startled by this news. 'Yes, and as far as I can deduce we are currently in a scene from one of Morley's greatest plays,' replied Locke, leading the way down a street where a mannequin dressed in a blue princess dress. ‘''The Near Tragedy of Oliver and Ethel.' 'As fascinating as that is, how is that supposed to help us escape?' Logan demanded, stopping in front of the mannequin. He had to study that play as a school assignment and had loathed it. 'I believe that if we are to escape, we must act out the scene, but performing is not one of my talents,' said Locke. 'If I am correct, putting on this costume -' he motioned to the mannequin '- should set things in motion.' 'What do you mean - wait, you want me to act? And wear that?’ Logan looked horrified. 'How else are we to escape? I cannot act.' 'Nor can I! My talents lie in fighting, politics and certain literature! I know nothing of acting and drama! I nearly failed my assignment on this play!’ 'But I'm sure you know about love,' Locke argued. 'This scene is from a beautiful love tragedy.' Logan didn’t reply. True he hadn’t experienced it himself, but he had seen it once in his life… the day his mother died. His father’s devastation was more moving than the play. ‘Fine, but no one is to hear of this,’ Logan growled half-heartedly, grabbing the dress and throwing it on. Once dressed, he was startled to see an audience of ghosts appear. 'Great, just great,' Logan muttered bitterly as a ghost appeared in front of him. 'Oh Ethel, my love, my life, my sun,' the ghost said. 'If thou wouldst but give me one sign, one gesture that would speak of your affection. Then might I think this grey existence worth living.' 'Huh?' Logan looked over at Locke. 'Ah, yes, a classic moment in the play,’ said Locke. ‘You are Ethel, the beautiful young daughter of a dung merchant -' 'Must be pretty expensive dung,' muttered Logan. He was wearing a very expensive dress after all. 'Show Oliver that you love him and we may be able to leave this scene,' Locke concluded. 'Okay,' muttered Logan, taking a deep breath and putting on a ridiculous girl’s voice 'My heart is your, my love.' 'Let the heavens and the seas, the toads and the eels sing the songs in my heart, for she doth love me and all is well!' the ghost playing Oliver said. 'We shall meet again in the morrow, my little ferret, and elope into the sunset to live out our days in wondrous joy.' ‘Whatever,’ muttered Logan, ripping off the dress. 'A magnificent rendition,' said Locke. 'I truly applaud you.' Logan merely rolled his eyes as Morley appeared before him, looking slightly impressed. 'Hmm, I see you are gifted with remarkable literary cunning,' said Morley, 'but can you really comprehend the depths of my works? We shall see.' The world around Locke and Logan blurred and the scene changed. Looking around, Logan could see that they were in some sort of throne room. Maybe he would have to act like a prince. How easy would that be. 'Ah, yes,' said Locke as they walked over to the next costume with turned out to be a chicken suit. It was as though Logan hadn't been humiliated today. 'This is un-doubtfully a scene from one of Morley's earlier, funnier plays, ''Bloodbath at the Royal Court.' 'I don't see anything funny about that,' Logan muttered, glaring at the chicken suit. If only it would burst into flames. He looked down thoughtfully at his gauntlet. 'You might want to get changed into your costume,' Locke suggested, not noticing the look he was giving the feathery attire. 'The role of a fool is one filled with tragic depth. It will require a masterful performance.' ‘Well don’t get your hopes up for a masterful performance. I’m no jester or joker,’ Logan informed him, getting changed. Once in costume, he threw himself in the throne - as Locke told him to - and crossed his arms sulking. He hated chickens. 'What fresh insolence is this? Out of my throne, you impertinent buffoon!' the ghost playing King Row Low demanded. King Row Low was a king who liked his comforts, if his stomach was anything to go by. 'Stand before your king and do your jester's duty! This is a troublesome time for this court and my crown grows heavy. So make me laugh, or I shall have your head!' Logan looked at him blankly. He didn’t know any jokes and he was the complete opposite of funny. However, as he sat there thinking, he remember that whenever Lillian was in a bad mood, as a child, or just plain old sulking, he used to come along and tickle her. It always put her in a good mood afterwards. Logan just hoped it would work on the king and that he was ticklish. He went for it and it turned out that the king was very ticklish. 'Oh stop, it's too funny!' the king laughed as Logan pulled away. 'I believe I'm in the right mood now to meet with those foreign delegates. I think I shall only behead half of them. Yes...' Logan immediately took off the costume and threw it way. He was in half a mind to burn it. Morley appeared again, still impressed. 'You handled my royal dramas as well as you handle my romances,' he said. 'But, will your versatility extend to the more subtle domains of theatre, I wonder.' If it is something I can base an event of my life on then I'm sure I can, thought Logan as the scene began to change once more. When the scene came in focus, Logan and Locke saw that they were standing in a clearing of some sort of dark forest. In the middle of the clearing was a man's mercenary outfit. Locke paled. 'Oh dear,' he said. 'What?' Logan asked sharply. 'Unless I'm mistaken, this is a scene from Morley's notoriously violent historical epic, Titus the Mutilator, Part II,' explained Locke. 'Which would mean this is the gladiatorial arena from Act V. where Titus is finally slaughtered by savage warriors seeking revenge.' 'Dare I ask how you know so much about these plays and acts?' 'It was a favourite scene of mine as a child. I must admit,' Locke admitted. 'I even had some pyjamas that looked just like that,' he added, motioning to the mercenary costume. 'Put it on and you like take on the greatest role of your life.' Logan did as he said and waited for a ghost to appear. He did not have to wait long. 'Titus!' yelled the ghost. 'Thy pox-membered body shall pay for thy monstrous villainy. My son lies dead because of you. Now shall revenge be mine, cold as your corpse and all the more flavoursome for it.' Next minute Logan was hit from behind with a blunt sword, making him yell out. He whipped around and killed the ghost that had hit him. 'Do try to make your demise convincing,' she heard Locke yell out. ‘Are you saying that should allow them to hit me?’ Logan demanded. ‘Yes.’ ‘No, stuff that! I cannot take any unnecessary injuries!’ ‘But if that is the only way to escape –‘ ‘Trust me, we’ll find another way to escape, unless you wish to play Titus?’ ‘You’re doing a marvellous job!’ Locke said quickly. ‘That’s what I thought.’ Every ghost warrior that came near Logan met his end. Logan merciless swung his hammer at them. In the end, it was only Logan and the main mercenary, Ace, standing. They looked at each other. ‘More of my kin lie slain, and yet you live!’ Ace yelled at Logan. ‘You have breathed your last sulphur-scented breath, Titus!’ Before Logan knew it, more mercenaries appeared and attacked. Logan defeated them like the killers before. ‘All my men dead, my vengeance denied, and my world undone,’ Ace said woefully. ‘I cannot stand to live one second more.’ Ace disappeared and Logan realised that the play was over. 'What a tremendous performance!' Locke congratulated as Logan changed. ‘That’s just the ending I wanted to see when I was a young boy attending the theatre every weekend. I wonder what scene will follow now.' 'Oh, what scene could possible follow such a masterful rendition of my work?’ said Morley. ‘And the way you improvised that role, you have brought such depth and meaning to my words, I stand in awe. You have earned the prize that no mortal has ever been honoured with before: my missing play. I entrust it to you. For I know, you will do it justice!' 'What's the play called?' Logan asked 'I call it, The Ham Sandwich!' replied Morley, before adding, 'Metaphorical title of course.’ When Logan and Locke emerged from the book, they headed out side to find Lambert and Pinch. 'Ah, you have retrieved out aged investigator!' said the joyful Lambert as they walked towards the two men. 'Oh happy day! Have you perchance found...?' he trailed off, looking at Logan anxiously. Logan handed him The Ham Sandwich. 'We're saved, Lambert!' exclaimed Pinch. 'Oh, the joy in my bosom knows no bounds!' said an equally excited Lambert. 'Thank you. A million times, thank you!' 'He said "bosom".' Pinch laughed. 'It's already working. Comedy and tragedy will at last join hands! You must come and see it!’ he added to Logan Well, that sounds like a fascinating play, said Jasper.'' Should I put a note down for you?'' ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ Logan replied to Jasper and Pinch. He did not think he could ever stomach another play ever again. Very well, Logan. Jasper sounded highly amused. The reason for my interruption is a nearby villager needs help with his gnomes. Right,’ Logan said, before turning to Locke. ‘Could I have a quick word?’ ‘Sure,’ replied Locke, following Logan a short distance away from Pinch and Lambert. ‘Listen, if you tell anyone about what I had to do to free us, I will make it that you will wish that you had remained trapped in that book,’ Logan warned him, before walking off. '-----LOGAN’S JOURNEY-----' After helping Brian bring his gnomes to life and after rescuing a child from a wolf-infested cave, Logan returned to Samuel who was waiting at the entrance of Brightwall. When he got there, Logan got a massive surprise to see most of Brightwall's population standing there too. 'Samuel, what's with all the people?' Logan asked, stopping next to him, but Samuel only smiled at him and addressed the crowd. 'Esteemed citizens of Brightwall,' he begun. 'Today we demonstrate the generous nature of our fair town. For too long have, our mountain neighbours suffered in silence, and now we extend a helping hand, but this effort would not have been possible without the courage and determination of one man; the son of the old Hero King.' Samuel motioned to Logan. 'From this day, we shall know you as... the Hero of Brightwall!' Logan was speechless. So speechless that all he could do was bowing his head humbly the cheering crowd, before turning back to Samuel. 'Before you leave, we ask of you one favour,' said Samuel. 'As we pledge ourselves to you, so we hope that you will pledge to return Brightwall to its former glory, and re-open the Academy which your father founded.' Samuel held out his hand. Logan stepped forward and took his hand firmly. 'I will,' he promised, which brought more cheers from the gathered crowd and the cheers grew louder when two written promises - both the exact same - were brought forward and he signed them without hesitation. One was to remain with the people of Brightwall while the other was to remain with Logan. He was sure that Jasper could find a place for it in the Sanctuary. 'Very good, very good,' said Samuel, once the promise had been sealed. 'I expected nothing less from you!' He then turned to the gate through which four men were walking through, each carrying a crate. 'These volunteers shall carry the supplies to the Dweller Camp. They may have them with our blessing.' He turned back to Logan. 'I hope you will return one day, not just as our Hero, but as our King.' Logan nodded his head before asking, 'Have you seen Walter?' 'Ah yes. He said that he would meet you at the Dwellers Camp.’ 'In that case, I better not keep him waiting. I'll accompany the volunteers and protect them from wolves and any other nasties.' With that said and a quick good bye, Logan quickly went and joined the volunteers delivering the food to the Dweller Camp, and it was a good thing he did. The wolves were drawn to them due to the smell of food. Logan shuddered to imagine what would have happened to them if he wasn't there. '-----LOGAN’S JOURNEY-----' As Logan and the volunteers entered the Dweller Camp, the Dwellers began to cheer and cry for joy as they realised what had happened. No longer would they starve, and it was all thanks to Logan. The Prince led the crate carriers through the camp and over to where Sabine lived. The crowd followed them the entire way. 'Our Hero returns!' a happy Sabine exclaimed, when he caught sight of him. 'Bringing good tidings... and supper.' 'And the relic you asked me to acquire,' said Logan, handing over the music box. Sabine accepted it and began to try to open it. 'Damn thing doesn't open... How do you...? - Oh, well. I never thought you'd actually get it, tell you the truth,' Sabine shrugged, handing it back to Logan. He never actually wanted to keep the relic, and he knew that it rightfully belonged to Sparrow’s son. 'We've been blessed, my friends,' Sabine told the crowd. 'We have made an alliance that has already brought us life. One day it will bring us much more. We require one more offering before we fight at your side,' he added to Logan, who resisted the urge to groan. 'What is this offering?' Logan inquired. 'A promise,' Sabine said simply. 'Promise to restore these mountains to their full glory and to protect our right to dwell in them. And promise you will bring nothing but the fiercest justice upon Lillian’s head.' Logan hesitated and not over the first promise, but the latter. He did not know if he was able to hurt Lillian, after all, she was his little sister. In the end, Logan looked Sabine straight in the eye and said firmly, 'I promise!' 'Then may we be carried into the castle by the dark storms of fury!' Sabine yelled, with a mad gleam in his eyes. 'You have to wait a little longer for that,' Walter interrupted. He had been standing next to him the entire time. 'It's still just us against a whole army. We need to recruit more people. 'I was afraid you'd come over all logical and sensible,' a disappointed Sabine sighed, before turning to Logan. 'Well, you have brought us a feast and we are free to hunt again. We'll just keep on eating and drinking till you're good and ready.’ Just like in Brightwall, Logan had to sign a written promise where both parties got a copy. With the promises signed, Walter motioned for the Prince to follow him. 'I couldn't be prouder of what you've accomplished here,' Walter said as they walked through the camp. ‘Hammer and Sparrow would be equally as proud, but there is still much for us to do and I know just where to find our next allies.' 'Dare I ask how you know these things?' ‘Let’s just say your father had a bit of a bad influence on me,’ Walter replied, making Logan laugh. 'Did I ever tell you how glad I am that you are on my side?’ Logan said, still chuckling. ‘I doubt I would ever know where to begin to find allies. So, where are we going?' 'The station in Mistpeak,' replied Walter as they left the camp. 'And then where?' 'Mourningwood.' 'Why are we going there? The place is invested with hollow men and the only things that reside there are the dead!’ 'No, there is a small village there,' said Walter, 'of the living,' he added, catching sight of Logan’s face. 'Uh huh,' said an unconvinced Logan. Why would anyone want to live there?